Share With Me (Your Grief)
by Written Fire
Summary: The story of how George and Hermione dealt with their grief, and in each other found a love that saved them, igniting a happiness they never thought they would feel. Post-War fic.
1. Prologue

_I love this pairing and this idea; this is something I'm writing purely for me, which has not happened in a long time. I hope that you enjoy this prologue and that you stick around for their story._

_Enjoy.~_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; nope, nope nope.

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Hermione remembered the first time she and George kissed. It hadn't been a romantic one, it had happened more out of a need for comfort. George was going through the loss of his best friend, his _twin_, and Hermione was dealing with the nightmares, and the realization that she and Ron were not really meant to be. It had been more for George's comfort then her own. The falling asleep together afterwards, however, helped them both equally.

It happened a month after the Final Battle. George had been holed up in his apartment, ignoring everyone, much to his mother's dismay. Hermione was visiting at the Burrow when Molly had shoved the casserole in her hands, asking her to take it to him in a shaky voice.

She hadn't really had a choice.

Looking back now, though, Hermione is grateful.

That simple request led her to George.

And being with George...well, being with him makes her the happiest she's ever been.

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_I started this pretty soon after my aunt passed as a way to distract myself; when the grief got to be too much, the writing stopped. I'm trying my hardest to deal with it and everything that has happened, so I'm hoping that finishing writing this will help the process._

_You probably didn't really want to know that, but I felt like I should share it because while I have two chapters done (and another almost there) there may be times when this gets to be hard to write. _

_I hope that this short prologue has you wanting more, and that you stick around for more. _

_Thank you for reading, and please, leave a review._

_-Written Fire._


	2. Chapter One

_Here is Chapter One! I actually rather like what I have so far, and I hope that you do as well. Sorry about the long wait for this, I actually meant to get this out to you sooner than I did. My bad._

_Thanks for the favorites, follows, and the review. Hope that you enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs solely to a wonderful woman who is not me.**

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_"Where did you get this?!" Bellatrix cried, the tip of her wand pressed hard against Hermione's throat._

_"I don't know!" Hermione whimpered, trying to move back and crying out when Bellatrix grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. _

_"Don't lie to me, Mudblood! Where did you get it?!" Bellatrix screamed, pushing her wand harder against her throat._

_"I don't know!" Hermione shrieked at her in a tear chocked voice._

_"You're lying!" Bellatrix screamed, shoving Hermione so hard she fell to the ground._

_"I'm not, I don't know!" Hermione cried, shuffling back. _

_"Filthy, lying little Mudblood! You will tell the truth!" Bellatrix hissed, advancing on Hermione. With a mad glint in her eyes, Bellatrix raised her wand and shouted a word Hermione will never forget. "CRUCIO!"_

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"Ahh!" Hermione screamed, bolting upright in bed, her heart pounding. Gasping in a breath Hermione closed her eyes, wrenching them back open just moments later before she tumbled off the bed, running to the toilet and emptying her stomach of last night's dinner. Flushing, she rose on shaky legs and turned to the sink, splashing water on her face. Grabbing the towel she then dried it off, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She was pale, bags forming under her eyes from getting no sleep. Her hair was a bushy, tangled mess, dirty from being deprived of a wash the past few days Hermione had locked herself up in her apartment. Sighing, Hermione grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, brushing her teeth before jumping into the shower. After a good long scrub, she got out, wrapping her towel around herself. Walking to the kitchen Hermione made herself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would keep her up for the rest of the day.

It was a long shot, but worth a try; sometimes, it worked.

It had been a month since the Final Battle. The end of the war brought about so many conflicting emotions in everyone; on one hand there was happiness that the war was over, while on the other there was a great deal of sadness. The past month had passed full of funerals, and Hermione had been to every single one. It was her duty as a part of the Golden Trio to attend, whether she knew them or not. It was depressing, and took a lot out of them all. Luckily enough, the last one that they were scheduled to attend had been two days ago.

Hermione hadn't left her apartment since.

She was in the middle of making her coffee when the owl arrived. Startled, Hermione opened the kitchen window, a small smile gracing her lips for a split second when she recognized the owl. It was Errol, the Weasley family owl, come bearing a letter from Molly. Sighing, she grabbed the exhausted owl a handful of treats, setting them down in front of him before opening her summons.

And a summons it was; Molly was demanding that she come over for breakfast in no less than seven minutes. Placing the letter down, Hermione walked to her room, stroking Errol's feathers along the way. Tossing her towel in the dirty hamper, she dressed, running her brush through her hair until all the tangles were gone. Doing a quick braid she slipped on her shoes, sliding her wand into her pocket. Glancing towards the clock and seeing she had one minute left she rushed towards the kitchen, gently picking up Errol with the intent of letting him out the window. Hearing the feeble hoot he gave, however, changed her mind. Holding him in one hand she closed her window, keeping a firm grip on him as she apparated.

She appeared in the front yard, the noise scaring the chickens away. Shaking her head at their fleeing Hermione walked the short distance to the front door, letting herself in.

"Mrs. Weasley, you need to get a new bird." Hermione said as way of greeting, setting Errol down on the window sill and watching as he just laid there, the slight shifting of his wings the only sign that he was still alive. Hermione walked to Molly, allowing herself to be engulfed in a hug.

"It's Molly, dear, and I know. We will one day." she pulled back and looked at her with frown. "Too skinny..." she muttered under her breath, pushing Hermione into a chair by Harry at the kitchen table. A plate appeared in front of her a second later.

"Morning 'Mione." Harry yawned next to her, sending her a sleepy smile.

"G'Morning Harry." she yawned halfway through his name, making him laugh. "Those things are contagious." she had him laughing again.

"Sorry. Did she get you up early too?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

"No, I was up already." The concern in his eyes caused a soft smile to appear on her lips. She knew he was probably having problems of his own, and yet he still worried about her.

She loved that about her best friend.

"What's the matter?" he asked in concern, turning in his chair to face her.

"I just haven't been able to sleep." she told him softly. Harry's look turned into one of understanding.

"Nightmares?" he asked voice just as quiet as hers had been. Hermione nodded. He sighed and grabbed hold of her hand, holding it under the table. "You know you can come to me if you can't sleep."

"I don't want to disturb you...you're probably having as much trouble sleeping as I am. I won't chance going over and possibly waking you up." he sighed and shook his head at her, but let the matter drop. Hermione could be stubborn and he knew that if he tried to convince her otherwise, it would just result in an unneeded argument.

They held hands for the rest of breakfast, giving each other that silent comfort. Breakfast was still a subdued affair; Mrs. Weasley made more than she needed to more often than not.

Since the end of the war all of her brood would eat a meal here. It would not always be the same one, and often Molly will send an owl, like she did to Hermione that morning. It always succeeds in getting her children there. All except for one.

George.

So far, Molly had no luck in getting him to come home. After weeks of getting no response from him, she eventually gave up trying. Now she just sent him meals, hoping with all she had that he actually ate them. She never sent anyone with them, not knowing if the company would be wanted or not. Glancing around the table, she wondered if she should try it that night. She did not know how he would react, but it was worth a try. The only question was who.

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The rest of the day passed quickly for Hermione. She ended up staying after breakfast with Harry and Ron, the three passing the time by in the comfort of the Weasley backyard. They spent the whole of the day just lying in the grass, alternating between silence and talking. It was slightly awkward for Hermione. During the Final Battle she and Ron had kissed. It had felt good at the time, but after further reflection—and another kiss—they had come to the conclusion that they really did not feel for one another as they had thought. She loved Ron, but it was like the way she loved Harry. It was hard coming to grips with that fact; they, like everyone else, figured that they would end up together in the end. Finding out differently was just yet another thing that had changed in their lives.

When dinner was announced, they sat in the same manner as they had earlier, the only difference being that this time Ron sat next to Hermione. Dinner was louder than normal that day, and Hermione found herself with a smile on her face throughout it all. It was after dinner, as everyone was heading home, that Molly made her request.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Molly?" she asked, turning around to face her, hands quickly latching onto the pan that was unexpectedly shoved into her hands.

"Could you..." she stopped, taking a deep breath. It did not help, though, as her voice was still shaky with emotion when she continued. "Could you take this to George? Please?" Biting her lip, Hermione looked from Molly's face, down to the casserole in her hands, debating on whether she could say no or not. "I know he has not been eating well…I'm worried." she added, seeing the indecision on her face.

"Molly…I…" she started, trailing off at the look in the older woman's eyes. The grief that she usually hid so well was sitting in plain view on the surface. Seeing that, mixed with the concern over her son, had Hermione caving. "Ok." she said, watching Molly's body relax slightly in relief.

"Thank you, dear. Try and get him to eat it, ok?" she pleaded.

"I'll do my best." she told her, sending her a small smile before turning and walking out the door Harry was holding open for her. Inhaling a deep breath, Hermione let it out on a sigh.

"She's sending you away with food?" Harry asked her in amusement, closing the door behind them.

"A whole pan, too." Ron added, looking down at the food in Hermione's hands with interest.

"It's not for me." Hermione told them in slight exasperation.

"Then for who?" Ginny asked, linking hands with Harry as they made their way to the apparation point at the end of the yard. Ginny and Harry weren't officially together yet, but everyone knew that it was only a matter of time.

"George." she answered, feeling all three gazes latch onto her. "She caught me on the way out and asked me to bring it to him, and to make sure he eats it." she frowned. "I'm not sure how to do that, though." she admitted to them, looking up at his siblings for help. They looked at a loss, though, on just how to answer her.

"Normally I'd be able to tell you how, but…" Ginny trailed off, knowing it did not have to be explained. Ever since Fred had died, George had just been a pale imitation of himself. No one really knew how to handle him; and honestly, no one had really tried. It was hard to deal with another's grief when you were trying to get through your own.

Hermione sighed. "I guess I'll just have to wing it then." She decided stopping and turning to look at her friends.

"Good luck." Ron said, kissing her cheek before saying his goodbyes to Harry and Ginny, leaving their sight a second later with a loud crack. Ginny hugged the best she could, considering she was holding a pan of food.

"Do your best, ok?" she said, kissing her cheek also. Hermione just smiled slightly in response.

"If anything, at least eat something yourself." Harry told her, chuckling when she frowned. He kissed her cheek too, ruffling her hair.

"See you tomorrow." She told them, apparating away.

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_Yeah, it'll be this sad tone for a while, but no worries, there will be a happy ending!_

_Leave a review?_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-Written Fire_


	3. Chapter Two

_Here we are with chapter two! This is the longest chapter I've written in...anything, actually. Chapter three looks like it will be following in it's footsteps, so, fingers crossed for that!_

_Hope that you enjoy~._

**Disclaimer: I still do not own.**

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The sight to greet Hermione's eyes always came as a shock to her senses. One would think that after two years of seeing it she would be used to it; she doubted, though, that anyone ever could. During the war, it was the one bright spot in Diagon Alley. Since the end of the war, as stores had slowly started to come back as they were, it was still the brightest thing there. Looking at it, though, one could say that the store seemed dim since Fred's death.

Hermione knew that couldn't possibly be true, but that was how it felt. Ignoring the closed sign she gripped the food close in one hand, using the other to open the door. Holding the pan with both hands again, she used her foot to close the door, walking through the aisles to get to the room in the back that led up to the apartment. Finding the door closed she repeated the process, slowly making her way up the stairs in the dark.

"George?" she called, after getting no answer to her knock. "George, its Hermione." she stood in the silence of the hall for a few minutes more before raising her hand again to knock. "Geor—" she cut off with a gasp, looking at George's face in shock. "I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, wincing when he glared in response, a hand rubbing his forehead.

"Bad timing, right?" George asked, wincing as he coughed. It was obvious that he had not talked to anyone in a while, leading Hermione to guess that he hid himself off in his office.

"Right." she answered, feeling bad; it, unfortunately, so happened that when she went to knock George had answered the door, causing Hermione to rap her knuckles against his head instead of the wood. George glanced at her expression and sighed, shaking his head.

"It's alright." he muttered, turning around and heading to what she thought might be the kitchen. Assuming this to be an invitation to come in, Hermione did so, looking around the apartment as she followed George.

_The apartment is definitely the twins._ she thought, inwardly wincing at her slip. The statement, though, was truth. With the bright colored walls and the funky patterned floor, the apartment looked much like she had imagined it would.

Hearing a muttered curse come from the kitchen, she hurried up, arriving in time to see George put a bloody finger under the sink nozzle, another curse escaping his lips as the water hit the cut full blast. He turned it down low, watching as it washed the blood away.

"George? What did you do?" she asked, setting the casserole down on the counter and rushing towards him, grabbing his wrist and pulling it towards herself, looking at the cut that was already bleeding over again. Tsking, she set it under the water again, turning it down even more and grabbing her wand with her free hand. Summoning a towel she wrapped it around his finger, pressing tightly as she lifted it above her head.

"Accio Band-Aid." she frowned, quickly putting her wand in her pocket so she could catch it. Using her teeth she opened it, bringing his hand down and removing the towel from over the hurt. She put the Band-Aid on before it could start to bleed again, putting it on tight so that it would not fall off.

"There. What did you do?" she questioned again, glancing up at his face for the first time since she entered the kitchen. George stared unblinkingly at her for a few minutes before answering.

"I think I broke a cup." he replied.

"You think? What do you mean you 'think'?" she asked in confusion, head tilted to the side slightly in question.

"I reached in the cupboard-" he stopped to clear his throat. "For a cup, and my hand came away bloody." he explained. Hermione frowned, looking around the kitchen for the cupboard.

"That one?" she pointed to the slightly open one next to the sink. At his nod she walked to it, standing on tip toe to glance at its contents. Her frown became more prominent as she noticed that only two cups were left standing among the shattered dishware. "Oh George." she sighed, whipping out her wand. "Repairo." she muttered, watching as the broken pieces flew back together, leaving a full cupboard. With a bad feeling settling in her stomach, Hermione looked through the other cupboards, her suspicions getting confirmed. Going around the room she repaired all the broken pieces of kitchen ware she came across, unknowingly dragging George along with her due to her hold on his wrist.

Closing the last cupboard she stepped back with a satisfied smile, turning to find George standing right behind her. "Oh!" she gasped, a hand flying to her chest. "You scared me, George. What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. George raised a brow at her, looking from her face down to his wrist, and back again. "Oh! Sorry!" she let go, only to grab hold of it again. "That's right, I came for a reason." she went to the living room, stopping in front of the couch and shoving him onto it. "Sit; I'll be right back." she told him sternly, some of her bossier attitude coming through.

George watched bemusedly as she went back to the kitchen, leaving him on the couch. Listening to the clutter coming from the room he looked down at his finger, turning his hand around to look at the Band-Aid from all angles. Wondering what she was doing there and deciding he might as well get comfortable, he scooted back in the seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Since the incident happened, George had not been getting a lot of sleep. He tried, but most nights he would wake up from a nightmare and not be able to get back to sleep. Some nights, he could not even get to sleep in the first place.

"George?" he opened his eyes to see Hermione standing in front of him, holding a tray of food in her hands. Focusing on the mouthwatering aroma of it instead of the concern in her eyes, he sat up straight.

"What's that?" he asked, taking it from her and setting it on his lap.

"Casserole. Your mother sent it. And, a glass of water." she answered wringing her hands together nervously. "I don't know what kind, though. I just…accepted it." she added. George kept his attention on the food, but he felt the couch sink as she sat next to him. "I hope you're hungry, because she sent the whole pan."

George looked up at her, noticing for the first time how thin her face had become. Glancing down he saw that the same was truth elsewhere. "Eat it with me."

Hermione blinked at him, then shook her head slightly. "I'm not hungry." she quietly stated.

"Yeah, well, neither am I. Eat it with me, or I won't eat it." he coughed, sipping the water to soothe his parched throat.

Hermione stared at him, and then sighed. "Alright." she was almost past the couch when she was pulled to a stop.

"Share mine." George told her, pulling on her wrist to get her back to her seat. He made sure she was seated before letting go, moving the tray so it was half on her lap, and half on his.

They spent the next half hour sitting and eating in silence. Between the two of them they finished it quickly; Hermione had even gotten them seconds.

Hermione laid the fork down on the plate, having eaten the last bite. Closing her eyes she leaned back in the seat, resting her head on the top of the couch. She sighed, feeling drowsy. That happened a lot after she ate one of Molly's meals; not always, but it had happened on more than one occasion. Turning her head slightly, she opened her eyes just enough to see George out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting in the same stance as her, but his open eyes gazed at the ceiling. She wondered just how much sleep he got. Judging by the size of the bags under his eyes, she would wager not enough.

"You're not eating." George stated, still staring at the ceiling. The hint of accusation she could hear in his voice had her frowning.

"You're not sleeping." George turned his head and looked at her now open brown eyes. He had the passing thought that they were rather pretty before his brain processed what she said, and he found himself frowning along with her.

"And?" he asked.

"I don't know. You said something first." she felt like a child with that comeback, and it must have showed for George snorted a moment later, startling her. Hermione looked at him wide eyed. He rolled his own, reaching a hand up and tweaking her nose.

"Get it." he told her, setting his hand down back onto the tray. As if finally realizing he still had it he suddenly stood, holding it in his hands as he went to dump it in the sink. Hermione watched him walk away until she couldn't anymore. She looked around the room again, eyes stopping on a picture of Fred and George. She stood and walked towards it, picking it up to get a better look.

They had their arms around each other and were laughing, big grins on their faces as they looked at the camera. She figured they must have been pulled out of the shop for this picture, since both were still in their work robes. They both looked so happy.

"That was opening day. Lee took it right before we started letting people in." she heard George's quiet voice say from behind her. Whirling around to face him she found him to be blurry. Realizing with a start that she was crying, Hermione tightened her hold on the picture.

"You both look so happy." her voice shook as she tried to suppress the tears, blinking in an attempt to see him clearly again.

"We were." he stated simply, gently taking the picture from her hands. He looked at it for a few seconds before he placed it back in its spot. "I think it was one of the best days of my life. I can still hear him laughing sometimes. It sounds so real that I think for a moment, just a split second, that he's still here, that he didn't…" he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "But when I turn to my side and look, he's never there."

Hermione was freely crying now, the tears running down her face. Not knowing if it would be appreciated or not, but frankly, not really caring, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she cried into his chest. George stumbled back slightly, looking down at the witch that had just attacked him. All he could see was her bushy hair, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold it back. He could tell it was a losing battle though due to the fact that his shirt was slowly getting wetter and wetter. He wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, holding her close as he allowed his own tears to fall.

A while later, once her tears had subsided Hermione lifted her head up, using a hand to wipe her tears away before chancing a look up at him. "Sorry…" she mumbled, reaching up and with the same hand wiping his tears away too.

"It's alright." he leaned in unconsciously to her palm as she did so, eyes closing as she lightly stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I'm sure you did not need me crying all over you." she told him, watching as his face slowly started to relax.

"If you need to let it out, then let it out." he told her firmly, his arms tightening around her as her other hand started to run through his hair, making him feel slightly drowsy. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, ok?" he told her quietly, opening his eyes to see her confused face. Before she could start asking questions he leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips. It was a short, sweet kiss, and was over before Hermione really had a chance to process what was happening. He buried his head into her curls, sighing. "'Mione?"

"Yes, George?" she asked, confused as to what he would do now.

"Could you…could you stay over tonight?" he asked quietly, his body tensing as he waited for her answer.

Hermione felt him tense, and bit her lip. She figured that question went with the 'don't take this the wrong way' advice, and that he asked out of a need of comfort. "Of course." she felt him relax in her arms, squeezing her before letting go. He grabbed her hand and led her to his room. Hermione stood in the doorway and watched as he continued on to his wardrobe, riffling through a couple drawers before he found what he wanted. With a slight blush he handed her some clothes, pointing over her shoulder to the bathroom down the hall.

"Something to sleep in." he explained unnecessarily, turning her and gently nudging her in that direction. She took the hint and went to the small room, locking the door behind her. Staring down at the clothes in her hand she noticed that it was a rather worn looking shirt and an old pair of boxers. She realized why he had blushed and decided to ignore the fact to make it less awkward then it had to be. She changed quickly and picked up her clothes on the way out, walking back to George's room.

George was already changed by the time she got back, wearing nothing but his boxers. She barely had the time to notice the good Quidditch had done to his body before he was in front of her, taking the clothes from her hands and setting them on his dresser. He grabbed her hand again, this time leading her to his bed. He got in first, holding the covers up on his bed for her to get in. She laid down beside him, facing him as he brought the covers down. He looked at her once they were both covered, reaching his hand out and grabbing hold of her hand again for the third time that night. Linking their fingers he scooted forward, kissing Hermione, if possible, even more softly then before.

"Thank you." he whispered, closing his eyes.

"You're welcome." she whispered back, watching as his features slowly softened. She figured this was probably the fastest he had fallen asleep in weeks. She watched his face for a while before the warmth of his hand and the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

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_These are all unbeta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes you may find. _

_So, good? No? Let me know! _

_Please leave a review? Until next time!_

_-Written Fire_


	4. Chapter Three

_Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait on this! I won't go into detail much on why because well I'm sure you don't care, so, anyways-enjoy the chapter!_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. Never happening.

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Warmth. That's what George felt. That, and soft skin against his. Frowning, his eyes still closed, he tried to remember what he had been doing to have what appeared to be a female's body in his bed, her limbs entangled with his. He could not remember, and figured he probably should. Slowly opening his eyes he looked across at the face that was so close to his. When he saw her face he blinked in shock, not truly comprehending why she was there. A frown marred his brow again as he tried to remember what she was doing there. "Oh." He muttered quietly in realization.

George did not know how long he laid and stared at her, but figured that it must have been some time. He was still doing it when she awoke, and did not even try and hide the fact that he was doing so. His first thought of her waking up routine was that she was a lot like a cat. The first thing she did, before even opening her eyes, was to stretch. She froze and went stiff when she brushed against him, her face staying blank as she tried to remember, too. He thought that he should not be surprised that she figured it out sooner than he did; she had relaxed against him and finished her stretch in no time.

His face was the first thing she saw.

"Good morning, George." She said, covering her mouth with a hand when she yawned.

"Morning."

"I'll go heat up the casserole." She said when he added nothing else and just stared. Without waiting for him to say anything she stood and stretched again, picking up her wand on her way to his kitchen.

George watched her leave, then rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He knew that he was the one who had asked her to stay in the first place, so he should not be feeling awkward, but he could not help it. It had been a while since he had woken up with a female in his bed; it would have been awkward if it was a stranger, but he figured that in that situation, he would know what to do and say. But since it was Hermione, his little brother's best friend, the resident bookworm…he found himself at a loss.

Just how did one handle this situation? Did he act like they had not just spent the night together, platonic though it was, or did he act as awkward as he felt and make her avoid him? Which, now that he was thinking of it, did not sound bad. It had been nice to have company last night, he admits that, but did he want her to think she could now come whenever? George did not think he was ready for daily company.

"George? It's ready." Hermione said, standing in his bedroom doorway. She was still wearing his clothes, and her hair was a curly, tangled mess. He thought she looked cute, even with the noticeable bags under her eyes. He gave a slight nod of the head to let her know that he had heard her, and waited a few moments to follow her back into the kitchen.

When he entered the room she was standing at the counter, stretching as far as she could to reach his cups. "Why don't you just Accio one to you?" he asked from behind her, as he reached up and grabbed two for her.

"Thanks." She accepted the cup and closed the cupboard. "Because I like to do things the Muggle way." She shrugged, grabbing his from him and pouring them both a glass of orange juice. She set them down at the table next to the plates, grabbing two forks and handing him one.

George accepted it silently, sitting down next to her at his small table. He didn't know why they had bought it, to tell the truth. The table never was used to eat at, except for the rare occasions when his mother would come and visit, or a friend wanted to use it. The number of times either thing had happened he could count on one hand.

"All things?" he asked a while later. They had just finished eating and he was leaning against the counter as he watched her wash the dishes.

"The simple things, yes. Like this, for instance." She said as she grabbed another cup, showing it to him before turning back to the sink.

"Do you know household spells?" George asked.

"Some."

George stood in silence after that, watching as the dishes slowly started to pile up. It had been a while since he had done any house work; now that he was thinking about it, he had given Hermione his last pair of clean boxers. Looking at the boxers in question he frowned.

"What?" Hermione asked, having caught the look.

"Nothing, I just…gave you my last clean pair of my boxers. I haven't really been doing my laundry." He mumbled in defense to the raised brow.

"Have you done any house cleaning, George?" Hermione asked, finishing the last dish and setting it on the edge of the full towel to dry before turning to face him.

"No." he grumbled, frowning when she tsked at him.

"Do you at least have your laundry sorted?" she asked.

"Uh…" George thought on it for a second and then shook his head. "No."

Hermione sighed. "Alright. Please tell me you at least have it all in one area?"

"It's all in my bedroom and bathroom." He said, watching as she passed by him and headed in that direction. He followed her a moment later, coming up behind her just as she reached his room.

"How did I not notice this last night?" Hermione mumbled. For now that she was looking, she could see the copious amounts of laundry that had piled up around the room. It even trailed off into the bathroom and closet, she noticed, and now that she was aware was leaving a stench to the air. Shaking her head she lifted her wand, using wordless magic to get the clothes started into sorting themselves.

Once that was started she turned to George, taking in his appearance, paying more attention than she had the night before. "When was the last time you showered and shaved?" she asked, stepping forward and running a hand through his hair.

George frowned down at her, standing still while she ran that hand down to his chin, frowning herself at the beard that was growing. "I've showered and shaved lately, thanks." He told her, a bite to his tone.

Hermione ignored it and ran her hand through his hair again. "It doesn't seem like it. How about while I do the laundry, you take a shower and shave? There will be clean clothes for you when you come out." She said, trying to bribe him, he knew. "Please?" the word succeeded where her bribe had not, and on a sigh he agreed.

"Fine." Hermione sent him a smile at that, not quite bright but still somehow managing to shine.

"On one condition, though." He added, watching her pause in the act of moving the clothes out of the bathroom, her body going stiff. "You have to eat a whole meal a day. You're too thin." He didn't care that he sounded like his mother at that moment, because they both knew that he was right. While Hermione had never been fat she had curves and fullness to her figure that was very attractive.

Now, while she still had her chest and her butt, he could tell that the rest of her had thinned out in a manner that he didn't like at all. It wasn't a natural thinning; it was the thin that you get when you've gone days without eating and taking care of yourself properly. George didn't like it on her, had never thought he would see it on her. As he watched her teeth worried her lower lip, eyes downcast as she slowly set the shirt in her hands in the right pile.

"I'll try." She finally said, separating the rest of the clothes before turning to him.

"Good." He held out his hand to her, raising a brow when she just stared at it. "Shake on it?" he asked, waiting patiently for her to do so.

Hermione sighed, "Alright," and shook his hand, wondering how well she would be able to keep this promise. It wasn't that she did not want to eat—she did, really—but that seventy percent of the time whatever she ate wound up coming back up anyways. Her nightmares were vivid and intense depictions of what she had been through a constant reminder that she really could have done without.

"I'll just…hop into the shower, now." He said, feeling a bit awkward. Hermione nodded slightly, just enough to show that she had heard him. Side-stepping he walked to the bathroom, looking around and taking in how much larger it looked without all of his dirty clothes lying around. Closing the door he undressed, opening it just enough after to toss his clothes to the floor, where they were quickly sorted in with the rest.

He took his time in the shower, enjoying the way the warm water felt as it ran down his body. George could admit, as he lathered his body with his favorite soap, that he was taking so long to avoid the possible awkward that was awaiting him in the other room.

Would she be gone by the time he was done? Or would she still be there, waiting; for what he didn't know. With a sigh he rinsed the last of the suds off, turning the water off before reaching for a towel. There was only one way to find an answer to his questions; all he had to do was open the door.

* * *

As George showered, Hermione had finished sorting his laundry, doing the load with the most boxers first so that he would have something to wear once he was done. While the laundry was in progress she cleaned up the kitchen, checking to make sure that there was enough of the casserole left for him to eat in the next few days. With a soft sigh at the bareness of the cupboards she went to check on the laundry, using a bit of wandless magic to get the just folded clothes to George's room while she dealt with the rest of his clothes. Folding them by hand had always been soothing for her, giving her time to either focus her thoughts or get lost in the soothing monotony of the action, whichever was needed.

Today she used it to calm herself, humming softly to herself as she waited for George to get out of the shower. That was how he found her thirty minutes later, sitting on the floor of his living room surrounded by piles of folded laundry. He stood in the doorway for a while, leaning against the door frame as he watched her; her motions were easy, hands smoothing out any wrinkles there were each step of the way.

By the time she noticed him, he had been standing there for ten minutes at least, and everything that was clean was ready to be put away. Though she hadn't been aware of his presence she didn't startle at finding him there; instead, surprisingly, she just donned him with a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly as she stood. "Your laundry is done, and I cleaned the kitchen while I waited…" she trailed off, peering up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Thanks. Do you, um—would you like to shower before you leave?" he asked, noting that she still stood in his clothes, her hair in even more disarray, if that was possible.

"No, thank you. I'll just change and shower at home." George nodded, stepping aside so she could pass him, watching as she closed his door behind her. While he waited for her he stepped into his living room, staring at the piles of clothes that she had left there. He was grateful for her help, truly, but he couldn't wait until he had the apartment to himself again. Just as the thought had passed his mind she exited his room, hair up in a sloppy bun and bag held close to her chest.

He walked her to the door, fingers wrapping around her wrist so that she wouldn't just leave without him being able to say what he needed to. "Thank you for…just, thank you for last night." He said softly, relaxing at the small smile she gifted him.

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself, alright?" He nodded, eyes closing briefly at the touch of her lips to his cheek. "Bye, George."

"Bye, Hermione." They shared one last look before she disappeared down his stairs, George waiting until he heard both of the doors close behind her before closing his own, leaning against it as the weight of being alone pressed onto him again. As much as he wanted her to be gone so that he could be alone with his grief, he couldn't help but want her around. There was just something soothing about her presence. With a shake of the head, he turned his attention to putting away his clothes, determined to ignore how dim the apartment felt without her there.

He was alone now, and that was how it would stay; no matter _what_ his mother thought he should do otherwise.

* * *

_Okay so I know it was kind of boring and you probably wanted more...I know that I did. But, I wanted to update to let you all know it was still going; I will have the house to myself this weekend until Tuesday next week so that will leave me a looot of time to write. I already know what'll happen next chapter, so be expecting an update soon ;)_

_Thanks for reading! Please, leave a review!_


	5. Chapter Four

_Well this chapter took longer than I had anticipated to get out to you and for that I am sorry. But, it's here now, and I hope that it's enough to tide you over until I update next._

_Enjoy, guys._

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I really don't.

* * *

The moment Hermione was outside of the shop and back on the streets of Diagon Alley, a shaky stream of breath passed through her lips. Leaning against the brick wall behind her, she took a moment to gather her bearings. That…was not how she imagined last night going, at all. She had gone over with the idea of dropping off the food and leaving, nothing more; the fact that she had not only _slept over_, but cleaned hisapartment, _and _made a promise she wasn't sure she could keep? Well, she had no idea what to do with that.

Tongue darting out to wet dry lips Hermione pushed herself off of the wall, closing her eyes before apparating away directly into her living room. Dropping her bag on the couch she crouched down and scooped Crookshanks into her arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she turned to the kitchen.

"Sorry I didn't come home last night, Crooks. George asked if I would stay…I assume you took care of yourself, though?" she asked with a smile, ruffling his fur atop his head and giggling at his disgruntled look. "I'll just feed you and hop in the shower. I'll be seeing Molly after to talk about George…" sighing she set him down, continuing to talk to him as she went through the familiar motions of feeding him. "It's certain to be an interesting conversation, don't you think?"

A single 'mrow' was all she got in reply. Shaking her head she stepped around him, leaving him to his food as she went to shower. It didn't take her long, the thought of easing Molly's mind as much as she could prompting her to be in and out more swiftly than she would have otherwise. Once she was dry and dressed she looked around the apartment, making sure there was nothing she needed to do before she left. Filling up Crookshanks water bowl, she gave him one last pet before stepping out the front door and locking it behind her.

* * *

"Molly? Hello?"

"Hermione dear! Oh, look at you, sit down and I'll get you some food." Hermione smiled at the warmth in the older women's words, hooking the strap of her bag onto the back of one of the chairs before sitting. She watched her heat up what must have been breakfast from earlier, eyeing the tension in her shoulders. Molly was expecting bad news, she knew, and was using the time it took to make a plate to prepare herself for it.

Seeing this, Hermione was glad that she had not waited to come over and tell her how it went. Anything she could do to ease some of the tension the older woman was carrying, she would gladly do. She had been such a comfort to all of them throughout the years; there wasn't much that any of them wouldn't do for her.

As it was she waited until she was seated before her, picking up the roll and breaking it in half. Reaching for the jar of honey she dipped a spoon in, scooping out a small amount to smear on her roll. Spreading it out evenly with a knife, she closed the pieces together and took a bite before turning to the older woman.

"So, how did it go?" Molly asked, mirroring her actions with hands that shook just the slightest.

"Well." Hermione said after a moment's thought. "We shared a plate, and talked for a bit. I cleaned up a bit while I was there, got his laundry started…he um, he ate this morning as well."

"Oh, I'm so glad. Did he have enough food?" Molly asked, noting the color that dusted the younger witches cheeks but letting it go for the moment. She could get the details on that later, she knew.

"He could do with a grocery trip," Hermione admitted, finishing her roll before picking at her eggs; she was still full from breakfast with George earlier.

"Well. Why don't we do that now and then you can bring it to him? We'll get you some things as well." Molly pushed her plate away, clapping her hands decisively and standing. "It seems he doesn't mind you going, dear, and I want to be sure that he is eating. My poor boy…" she paused, eyes closing against tears as she took a deep fortifying breath. "I think seeing the family is too hard on him right now, or else I would myself."

Hermione felt a bit of her heart break at the pain on the woman's face, pushing her plate away as well, grabbing her purse and walking around the table to give her a hug. "Of course, Molly; I'll be happy to take it to him." She smiled gently at her, accepting the kiss to the forehead before Molly released her and bustled around the kitchen, dealing with their plates before turning back to the younger woman.

"I'll be just a moment, dear." Hermione nodded and leaned against the sink, waiting patiently for her to come back downstairs. It would be nice to get out with someone who the reporters would leave her alone with; they had tried to get a story out of Ron while he was with his mother, and the following confrontation was not something anyone was likely to forget anytime soon.

Molly soon became the Trio's favorite person to be out in public with, something that she luckily was not offended by; considering that most of the reason was because of how they were left alone, there was that possibility. Though she knew that the shopping trip was going to be filled with not-so-subtle hints to her to leave her apartment for more than a trip to see Molly, to get a job, she found that she was looking forward to the outing. Though she did not think that she was really ready to start working at that point in time, it was nice to know that someone cared.

With the yet to be truly calmed Wizarding World and her own unsteady emotional state, she did not think that now was the time to go searching for parents and to bring them back. She missed them so much, and wanted nothing more than to bring them back—but that would come with a conversation that she did not want to even _dwell_ on, yet alone have.

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs she pushed off of the sink, sharing a brief smile with Mr. Weasley, who had followed his wife down the stairs. Waving a hand in goodbye she followed Molly out the door and to the apparation point of the yard, linking arms with the woman so they could go together.

Where they went didn't matter to Hermione much so she was content to follow where she lead a part of her wondering what George would do when she showed back up at his place with what she did not doubt would be a surplus of groceries. Molly tended to buy as if she had multiple mouths to feed even when it was for someone else, something that Hermione tended to find amusement in. Once someone got into the habit of feeding a large family, it seemed that it was a hard one to break.

This grocery shopping trip was more peaceful than the last, people respecting their need for privacy and leaving them alone. It was nice to be out doing something, even though it had a tinge of sadness to it because of why they were doing it. The question of how long he had been without food hung over their heads, the fear that he would not refill it himself tinging the air.

They chose not to word it, choosing instead to talk about the obvious relationship between Harry and Ginny, and later a good half hour of their time was devoted to what she knew Molly would bring up—her getting a job. She just let the words wash over her, knowing that nothing she did would stop them. It was something Molly was at a stalemate about with all of them; they let her continue to tell them because they knew that her worrying over them was something that would never change.

And with the tragic death of one her children still so fresh, no one really felt that they could tell her to stop worrying for them and their futures. It just did not feel right, to any of them.

By the time she was done trying to convince her for the day they were through shopping, everything paid for and Hermione's groceries already at her place and put away. Her cat had been fed while she was there, just a small snack to tide him over until dinner. They said their goodbyes in her apartment, Hermione using the quiet to steady herself for when she went back over to George's.

While he had been accommodating last night, she knew that he would be wanting his space today. Unfortunately for him, his mother was not to be ignored. Molly Weasley had always been a force to be reckoned with, and nothing about that had changed since the war ended.

* * *

Due to the amount of bags she had in hand she chose to appear outside of his apartment door, taking a moment to balance herself before knocking on the door, having to set a few bags down in order to do so. It didn't take him long to open the door, brow furrowed as he took in the sight of her.

"What are you doing back?" he asked, the sentence ending on a huff as she shoved a bag into his arms.

"Your mother decided that we would go grocery shopping for you, and that it was up to me to bring them to you." As she talked she brought the other bags in, setting them on the kitchen counter and beginning to empty them out. "She worries, you know."

George shut the door behind her, trailing behind her to the kitchen and placing his bag down as well. "Why didn't she just bring them herself?" he found himself asking, though he felt that he knew the answer already.

Hermione shrugged, answering the question with her back to him. "I don't know. I do know, though, that she bought you enough food to last a month. At least." She looked up at him as she turned back to empty the next bag, trying to determine what he was thinking. It was hard to tell, not knowing him too well, and she gave up before going back to putting the last few bags of food away.

"I'm not surprised." George sighed, leaning tiredly against the counter. The few hours she had been gone hadn't been nearly enough time to satisfy his need to be alone; having her here gave him too many mixed emotions to be comfortable with.

"She always buys more than she needs to." Hermione commented, a quick flick of her wrist making the empty bags disappear. Placing her wand back in its holster she turned around, leaning against the sink and shoving her hands in her front pockets. She didn't know what to do, or what to say; but she knew that she didn't want to leave just yet.

Tucking her hair behind her ear she glanced up at him from beneath her lashes; he was directly across from her, looking at his pantry with a small frown to his face. Looking him over, she wondered how he was really doing. She knew that he was in pain—who wouldn't be—but how was he handling it? _Was _he handling it? A part of her wanted to help him with his grieving process, but the rest of her knew that she was nowhere near healthy enough herself to help someone else.

They stood for a while more in companionable silence, her gaze eventually being drawn away from him as she became lost in thought. Clearing her throat she brought his attention back to her, a hand going to tuck her hair behind her ear again. "So, should I, uh—should I go?" she asked nervously, unsure what to do with herself.

George said nothing for a moment, looking intently at her as he thought her question over. He was warring with himself over how to answer; he wanted her gone but he wanted her near. It was the same problem he had with her earlier that day and it wasn't a pleasant dilemma. Finally he sighed, pushing off the counter and holding his hand out to her.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the door." She placed her hand in his, giving a quick squeeze when he opened the door for her. They shared a goodbye similar to the one they had when she left that morning, the only difference this time being that when she left, she went to Grimmauld Place instead of her home.

Hermione let herself in without knocking, making a beeline for the kitchen where she set about making herself some tea. She didn't know if Harry was home but knew that if he wasn't he wouldn't mind her being there without him; the three had an unspoken open door policy when it came to their homes. Cupping her mug in her hand and letting the warmth seep into her fingers, Hermione made her way to the living room.

Setting it down on a side table she sat, curling her legs under and getting comfortable before holding her tea in hand again and taking a small sip. A content sigh slipped freely from her lips, eyes closing as she enjoyed a quiet moment. She wouldn't be alone for long, she knew, and that was just fine with her. But for now, she was going to enjoy the warmth of her tea and the relaxing quite around her.

* * *

_Anyone else want a hot beverage now? I think I'll have to go and make myself some hot cocoa. _

_Life has been crazy at home; I'm working (finally!), trying to get back into school, and well-my Papa isn't doing well. It's been...interesting, lately._

_Speaking of my Papa, actually. In-case you all didn't know, November is Alzheimer's Disease Awareness Month. I am not going to tell you do go and donate or participate in the events-while this matter is close to my heart, it's not my right to force anyone to do that. I'm just letting you know so that maybe you can educate yourself on the disease, what it does to the one affected and their loved ones. I just wanted to make you aware of what this month was._

_That said-_

_Thank you so much for reading, and I hope that you leave a review._

_Until next time._


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